


The Age of Aquarius

by artysmartypigfarty



Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Birthdays, Deetzland, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Holidays, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Smut, beetlebabes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:27:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24418858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artysmartypigfarty/pseuds/artysmartypigfarty
Summary: (working title, subject to change)Right When the Deetlzand household thought they'd found their new normal a certain striped demon is dropped off at their door as the responsibility of his cursed bride. Beetlejuice's punishment for his antics is to be trapped with the people he terrorized over that week in January. The family carries on spending a year of birthdays, holidays and anniversaries with a Demon who'd never appreciated marking time as it passed.
Relationships: Beetlejuice & Lydia Deetz, Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz, Charles Deetz & Delia Deetz & Adam Maitland & Barbara Maitland
Comments: 9
Kudos: 44





	1. What is made to bend

**Author's Note:**

> I got this brain blast a bit ago to do a fun little piece exploring how our favorite haunted family would celebrate birthdays and holidays as a unit. I'm having quite a lot of fun writing this and playing with my HC starsigns and anniversaries. 
> 
> This fic is largely inspired by Lady Strange and Unusual's fic Sixth time's the Charm. Read here: https://www.archiveofourown.org/works/21909181

Picking up the pieces of a broken life and creating a new one from the fragments was a delicate game. Losing Emily, moving to Winter River, and a spectral filled new year meant that the Deetzland household was desperate to find some ritual to move forward and bring back a sense of Normalcy. Or as close to Normalcy as one could find when half the household was deceased. As the calendar turned to February, normal went out the window entirely when Beetlejuice appeared in the living room again. Apparently, his so-called vision quest had not progressed as smoothly as he'd liked. After the disaster that ensued, the netherworld council banished him topside once more. Charles was lost for words when he found a disgruntled Ms. Argentina in his home, accompanying a smug-looking Beetlejuice. There was no room for debate. The marriage was binding in the afterlife's eyes, meaning that the demon that upended their January was their problem. The only one who appeared pleased by this was Lydia, in her way, of course. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" she drawled as she reached the last step of the staircase, taking in the signature stripes. She'd heard the commotion in her room and descended the three flights to get a sense of what was going on. Beetlejuice turned to face her the smirk on his face growing. 

"Ah, there's the ol' ball and chain" he stepped away from Ms. Argentina to approach his favorite pintsized goth. "Did ya miss me, Babes?" He slung an arm around her and pressed her to his side. She crossed her arms in protest though her lips curled up in a sardonic smile. 

"At least you don't smell as bad this time." 

"Ah, there you are," Ms. Argentina followed Beetlejuice's movements and looked to Lydia now. "I've just finished explaining to 'jour parents. He is 'jour responsibility now since 'jou married him" She looked to her clipboard and turned over the top page as if consulting the regulations. 

"Doesn't uh...the whole till death do we part clause come into play here?" Adam perked up, eyeing the demon anxiously. It had been so lovely to have just a little peace. 

"Till death do we start, 'dats what jou get when 'jou marry a demon Papi" The Argentinan shook her head and flipped the paper back over. "He can leave the house and be seen by other mortals if 'jou say his name three times around them...and if 'you say it three times after that?" she looked to Beetlejuice with the air of a teacher repeating a lesson point. 

"I get sent back to the house, and the process restarts," he repeated in a bored tone like a reprimanded child. Ms. Argentina nodded her head. 

"Exactamente" with that, she turned on her heels and headed back through the door to the Netherworld. Beetlejuice looked at all of them, keeping a barely contained grin by making his signature overbite. 

"So, where should I put my stuff? Babs, Sexy...bed buddies?" he pointed between himself and Maitlands, earning a disgusted look. 

"Absolutely not!" Adam shouted in protest. Beetlejuice snickered, looking to Lydia with his brows raised as if to say 'still got it.' He waved a free hand to the flustered plaid beanpole. 

"Alright, Alright, Jesus christ, its a joke," he chuckled. "I don't need to sleep anyway. I'll take the roof" he liked looking at the stars. Most nights when the house went to sleep, and he'd grown tired of messing with them, he'd lay back on the roof watching the constellations. He liked the stretch of the roof outside of Lydia's room best. It was the space where they'd met when he first was seen by a living person. Call him sentimental, but it had meaning. 

There was the added bonus that Lydia often struggled to sleep through the night. He could often count on her to crawl out onto the roof and talk to him in the wee hours of the morning when sleep evaded her. He liked those talks. They differed from most of their conversations rife with plans, schemes, and pranks. These talks were calm and meaningful. The kid might have been 17, but she carried weight in her soul. She had depth. She understood more than most did in their lifetime despite how short she'd lived. Perhaps he was a little bias. Beetlejuice conceded that she could wax on about which maple seeds made for the best 'Pinocchio noses' and verses' Copters.' He liked listening to her talk. He relished that she sought him out to talk to, despite everything he'd put her through. He'd chosen a good wife, even if she made him sleep on the roof every night. Her mortality amused him. 

Beetlejuice liked best when she'd explain how 'normal' things worked. Like birthdays, today she was ranting about birthdays. He knew what a birthday was on principle but had never understood the hype breathers built around it. No one tracked things like that in the Netherworld, maybe since time worked differently? It was pointless to follow a marker of a time when in an eternity of nothing. 

"Are you listening to me?" 

Oh shit, that tone. His missus was angry, what had she been talking about again? Birthdays...right... Red's birthday. 

"What does Red want you to do anyway?" he asked, scratching the side of his head and flicking the bit of moss that came off across the room. He was met with a pillow chucked at his head. "Okay! Alright! Fine, I was not listening!" he exclaimed, putting a hand up to block any more items thrown at him. Lydia rolled her eyes but lowered the boot she was about to throw at him. 

"She wants to have a yoga spa-day party in the house," she shook her head, "And my Dad said its not optional...I can't even look forward to having cake! Its probably going to be some sort of weird gluten-free monstrosity," she paced back and forth. 

"Eh Yoga's not bad...I like the view when they do the doggy style one." Beetlejuice mused. He occasionally lurked in the room when Delia was practicing. Of course, Adam always blew his cover when he joined. Sometimes he'd sense the demon in the corner. Othertimes, Beetlejuice wouldn't be able to keep himself back from making a lewd comment that flustered both of the adults. Lydia never joined for yoga. He couldn't help but imagine what her tiny frame would look like contorting in some of the positions Delia tried. In the spandex sort of outfit, Delia usually wore. Somehow this party seemed to become more appealing by the second. Beetlejuice's thoughts were interrupted by a boot colliding with his head. 

"Ah! what the fuck, kid!" he shouted. He did it to humor her. There was nothing Lydia could do physically to harm him, but he liked it when his little wife got angry. He had to admit it was a good thing she'd distracted him, though. Lydia was his friend. Even though, as the kids say said he 'put a ring on it,' they were just friends. Beetlejuice knew he wanted it to be something more, but couldn't figure out what that _more_ was. He didn't want to just fuck her. Lydia was worth more than that. He wasn't picky in who he fucked, somehow holding himself back from sleeping with Lydia marked that she was different. Was it respect? Was it something else? He shook his head like a dog to scramble his thoughts. He had an idea of what it might be, but that was stupid. Last time he entertained something like that he got a stake through his freshly beating heart. 

A few hours later, the living room had been transformed. Charles, it seemed spared no expense in creating a yogi oasis in the house. A year ago, Delia would have spent the day before her birthday stressing about the guest list, or claiming she didn't need any celebration of the day as she was more into spiritual ceremonies. This year was toned down. She didn't need the validation of others to celebrate her birthday this year. She had a new family. Even though half of it was dead, it was still precious to her. She finally found a place where she could be herself, whoever that was. 

"oh, this is going to be so nourishing!" she squealed as she unrolled one of the mats to lie perfectly next to the others. The moment she stepped away from it, Adam came up and fixed it, so that it aligned perfectly with the others. 

"I'm glad we can make this happen for you, Barbara and I did a couples yoga class once, I wasn't nearly as flexible then as I am now," he remarked. Delia gave him a knowing smile as she looked back at him, pointing her fingers at him. 

"That's what happens with consistent practice." She said cheerily. Adam mused that it was likely part of being dead but kept the comment to himself. Barbara and Charles came into the room amid a conversation about the most efficient way to plant their garden when spring came. He envisions a set up with hydroponics. She wanted to use her seedlings from the year before.

"Alright, are we ready to begin?" 

"Ah...is Lydia coming?" Delia asked, her expression hopeful. Her relationship with her step-daughter had improved dramatically since she stopped trying to 'life-coach' her but was still susceptible to the negative aspects of adolescent mood swings. Despite the amount of love she had for Lydia, they had different interests. Delia would kill for just one activity to bond with her step-daughter over. The complicating factors here were that Delia couldn't keep up with her macabre interests and had yet to adjust to the presence of the demon who was practically attached to the girl.

"She's here!" Speak of the demon, and he shall appear. Beetlejuice manifested in the living room, holding his disgruntled wife in his arms. Lydia wore the irritated expression of a cat cuddled against its will. It was evident Beetlejuice forced her hand in attending, scooping her up and juicing them both downstairs before she could protest. She threw him a dirty look as he set her down on her feet. She'd at least changed into the clothing Delia set out for her. A pair of deep purple leggings and my chemical romance t-shirt. The shirt was a peace offering. Lydia wearing the outfit seemed like the signing of a treaty. The redheaded woman couldn't help but clap her hands together in excitement, seeing that she was playing along. 

"Alright, we're just waiting for the instructor...but in the meantime have a cucumber water and..."

"Instructor?" Lydia interjected, looking confused. 

"Yes, your father had someone agree to come out to the house...they won't be able to see everyone, of course," she cast an apologetic look over at Adam and Barbara. 

"It will still be fun, and we'll all get to do it together," Barbara chirped in her ever-optimistic tone. As if on cue, all the eyes in the room went to Beetlejuice. He smirked at the attention, bringing his hand up to admire the grime beneath his fingernails. 

"Beetlejuice..." Charles began. He looked like a model for DILF sporting goods striped of his usual suit and tie. 

"Yes..." the demon drawled, turning to face him. His brows raised and a smirk splattered across his face, clearly drawing amusement from the room's collective apprehension. "Two more times, Chuck, then we can have a real party."

"No, Could you..." he paused, seeming to rethink his words before continuing, "WILL you please contain yourself while the instructor is here..." the patriarch began, trying to find the line between negotiating with him and remaining indifferent. He didn't trust the demon to handle the fact that Charles invested in a particular outcome, to give him that information was practically an invitation for him to wreck chaos. "You don't have to participate...but just let us."

"Chuck," Beetlejuice placed his hands on his chest, his voice ripe with mocking. "I am insulted you think I'm not taking this seriously..," he lifted his hands and snapped his fingers. The moment his fingers made the popping sound, his outfit transformed from his signature suit to a pair of striped leggings and a tank top that said Eat Trash, Hail Satan featuring a screaming possum. 

"I am invested in the experience" he winked over at Lydia who's expression was a cross between disgust and amusement. The sight was a travesty, and she couldn't look away. He knew she didn't want to be there. He'd heard her rant about it upstairs before bringing them down here. As much as she bitched, she insisted it was something she had to do. It was her gift to Darla...no, Delia. Whatever her name was. Any other shenanigans were off the table for the moment, at least until after the party. Beetlejuice surmised he might as well amuse her and himself in the process. Keeping his eyes on his wife, Beetlejuice grinned, gathering a tuft of his hair on his head into a small ponytail snapping his fingers, so hers did the same. He sidled up next to her flashing a wide grin. 

Lydia rolled her eyes and broke his gaze. It was the only way she could keep from laughing at the sight before her. She couldn't possibly give Beetlejuice leave to think he was funny. No, that might encourage him. Faced with the prospect of the forced family zen time, she was eternally grateful for his presence. 

"Alright, we're ready" Lydia adopted the smile from her husband's face into her own, making the couple appear as possessed dolls. Charles raised his finger to object but couldn't seem to have the words. 

As if to Spare him from speaking, the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of the instructor. Delia hurried over to allow them inside. There was a collective fear that this instructor might be another Otho type guru. He walked into the room with his dark hair pulled back into a neat bun and a rolled mat beneath his arm. 

"Hello everyone," he greeted pleasantly, putting his hands together over his chest and bowing to them all "Namaste" he looked at the family before him, well what of it he could see. The enlightened breather was the only party to seeing half of the beings in the room. He sensed it was a cushy gig, a yoga class for a married couple, and their disgruntled teenager. It was definitely worth the trip across the cross Bronx expressway if it meant he'd be able to get all of his groceries at whole foods. "My name is Benjamin, I already know you're Delia, and I believe the name Charles came up on the Venmo deposit but you, my dear?" He gestured to Lydia. 

"This is Lydia" Delia stepped up and proudly slung an arm over the girl's shoulder. It was a testament to how much her tolerance for her stepmother had grown that Lydia didn't shrug the gesture off. Instead, she lifted her eyes to the instructor offering a deadpanned "hello" as a greeting. The three other entities in the room went unnoticed. Something Beetlejuice couldn't help but poke fun at.

"What no introduction for your son-in-law Delta?" he called out. As he could only be heard by members of the household, the taunt did nothing more than leave the tense uncomfortable air of someone letting out a fart and not laying claim to it. 

"Delia has asked that I come to teach a yoga class to help her align her chakras to enter into her next year of life, as her treasured family she's asked for you all to join as she enters her for-" 

"THIRTY-FIFTH," Delia shrieked as Benjamin began to say the dreaded 4-0.

"Thirty-Fifth year," the instructor continued giving a small bow in response to her outburst. Lydia turned her head to raise her brow's at Beetlejuice smirking. The pair snickered, earning a disapproving 'shh' from Adam. 

"What we will do first is set up our mats, and then we begin our practice by spreading our hands over our heads and taking a deep inhale," Mortal and Spectre alike did as prompted. Lydia stubbornly worked to keep her eyes off Beetlejuice; otherwise, she knew she'd burst into laughter. The instructor then prompted them to bring their hands together, palms up over their heads before separating them to rest at their sides with an audible exhale of breath. 

With that prompt, an ungodly sound crossed between a dying goat and a fork in garbage disposal filled the room as Beetlejuice released the 'breath.' With the music, Lydia lost it, doubling over into a fit of giggles. The adults in the room appeared unsure of how to respond. Their faces were a mix of confusion, apprehension, and in Charles' case disapproval cast at the pair. He narrowed his eyes at his demonic son in law only to earn a crooked smirk in response. 

"What Chuck, I'm just doing what the twig said," Beetlejuice growled, enjoying the color rising on his neck. Benjamin, the yoga instructor, appeared the most confused out of all those in the room. He heard the sound, though, given he only had three suspects to chose from. He assumed the sound came from the petite goth.

"Your enthusiasm is treasured. That truly must have been a good stretch for you," he offered, attempting to continue with his lesson. Lydia wiped tears from her eyes, nodding her head, trying to swallow down any further laughter. She elbowed Beetlejuice once the instructor's back turned.

"You hear that? My enthusiasm is treasured," he chuckled, taunting at Charles back. He threw another grin at Lydia and continued this way for the rest of the class. He loved to make Lydia laugh, in their time together he'd never fully been able to scare her, but quickly learned that a sarcastic snort or musical giggle brought him the same satisfaction as a good scream. Okay, maybe not the same satisfaction, but it was validating none the less. 

The lesson continued, and for the most part, He behaved himself. Considering his record, it was impressive. He lived to terrorize as such perfect behavior could hardly be expected. He had a reputation to maintain after all. He found himself getting rather bored, behaving himself the whole time leading his mind to wander. He hadn't engaged in any of the practice, just teasing Lydia as she played along. He loved seeing the expressions on his sour-faced bride as he floated above them all. 

"And now we are going to slide our hands forward into the position of 'downward facing dog'" Beetlejuice's ears perked and he snapped his expression to the group before him. Oh, this was too good to be true. He popped back across the room, standing on the staircase, so had the entire ass presentation facing him. What a display. Was it his birthday? He didn't have one nor understand the concept really, but it felt like sweet Satan below had set this up for him. 

Unwilling to let the opportunity pass, he let out a loud wolf whistle appreciating the view before him. His eyes lingered on Lydia's form. He needed her to wear leggings more often. How else would he come to appreciate the fact she apparently didn't wear underwear? There was no other explanation for how smooth her rear was as the fabric perfectly accented her small but shapely ass. 

"Adam, that ass could turn coal to a diamond, how do you keep it so tight sexy?" He taunted, Adam was the most natural target to fluster. The Maitland leaped up indignantly, shouting at him while his bloodless face turned bright red. Barbara swore at Beetlejuice and moved to place a placating hand on her husband's shoulder. 

Ignoring her demon, Lydia shook her head, swallowing a laugh as her face turned up from that mat. She followed the instructions, matched only by Charles, in her stoic expression. He had a vein thumping in his temple as he tried to contain his rage. Being the trained yuppies, they were they both had a proclivity for ignoring the elephant in the room. 

Lydia's focus, however, was on Delia. She wasn't sure how to feel looking at the 'birthday girl.' Usually, watching her variety of parents respond to Beetlejuice brought her amusement, but today she felt conflicted. She surmised it was born out of sympathy to Delia. Their relationship had improved since they'd first met. A month from the incident, and they were somewhere between mother/daughter and sisters. Lydia appreciated that Delia never tried to step into her mother's shoes. Her stepmother recognized that the job couldn't be filled, nor did she want it to. As such, she became a far more relatable parent in comparison to her counterparts. Delia was second to welcome Beetlejuice back. She was the first to talk Charles off the ledge when his temper was tested or when he found the purchases Lydia made to an expensive lingerie store on his credit card report. 

A recollection of all the efforts made on Delia's part to smooth over discord in the house brought a creeping feeling of guilt over Lydia. She surmised it was only fair she make an effort on her end, more so than going through the motion. That was her father's job. 

"Beetlejuice..." she said under her breath. The name had an immediate effect. Instead of terrorizing the Maitlands, he instantly appeared at her side. Was she going to say it two more times? Let them have some fun with ol' Benji? His attention span quickly, eager to keep his sole focus on Lydia. 

"What's up, Babes? Wanna turn this into a real party? Two more times and we're good to go." 

"No Beej," she smirked at him, turning and patting the bun atop his head. He frowned at her and shifted his head to the side, disappointed. "I want you to play along, knock it off." 

Beetlejuice made a show of rolling his eyes but didn't push further. He didn't give a damn if it pissed off the others, but Lydia could be a wild card. He enjoyed seeing her irritated, color brought to her pale cheeks, hands clenched into fists as she lectured him about something as if she was talking to an equal, not a millennia-old demon. It was like having a tiny dog growl at him, absolutely adorable. There was always a line; however, Lydia eventually picked up that he was amused with her anger and then shifted to ignoring him. That was what he hated the most. Beetlejuice would play like he wasn't bothered, but eventually tormenting the adults or roaming the Netherworld lost its appeal, and he'd have to return to apologize. He didn't want to admit it, but there was no one he enjoyed talking to as much as his cursed bride. 

"Alright Babes, You know if you wanted to see how flexible I am, I've got lots of ways to show you" the smile his comment earned was enough to keep him moderately compliant for the remainder of the 'class.' It appeared as though the party was going to be a success. While he didn't follow the routine to the letter, Beetlejuice made a point to twist some of the poses to make Lydia laugh. The combination of his contorting or muttering comments to her lightened her mood significantly. She almost felt relaxed. Delia was grinning from ear to ear as Benjamin prompted her to spend the last five minutes' leading' in her favorite poses before heading into the cool down. As she did that, Benjamin, the yoga instructor, moved between the three visible beings making notes on posture. 

Beetlejuice watched as Lydia had to turn to face him to stifle her giggling as he corrected Charles' downward-facing dog pose. "He's looking for the stick up his ass" he muttered just for Lydia to hear, earning further muffled laughter. He watched her expression as she bit her lip to keep from making too much noise. She was in the pose as well. It showed great restraint that Beej had not moved his view to get a second look at her ass. Just as he was considering doing so, he watched her eyes widen in shock. 

"You need to open your hips more" Benjamin offered as he stood behind Lydia, placing his hands on her hips. "Here let me help, just a bit of an adjustment" he made to shift her pose, making the unfortunate choice to stand behind her as he did so, creating a damning visual. 

There was no time to caution himself; otherwise, the instant he saw another the man's hands on his bride, it was all over. Beetlejuice leapt up, growling as he waved his hand, so the Yogi was blown back into the wall cracking the plaster. The impact promptly knocked unconscious, leading to shouts of the others in the room. 

"What did you do!" Barbara exclaimed in horror as she moved over to the unconscious body. "Charles, help me check his pulse I think he's still breathing" Towering with rage the patriarch moved to do so, glowering at his son in law. Lydia righted herself looking between the figure at Beetlejuice. He struggled to meet her gaze, looking around at the angry faces cast at him. His hair shifted from red to purple before he disappeared. 

He didn't know how to feel. Irritation that the Yogi had the nerve to touch his wife, jealousy born over the fact he wanted to put his hands on Lydia like that. He couldn't just admit that to her, that would ruin everything. What's more, there was the chance she didn't see him that way. She was his best and only friend. He slept with plenty of people over his existence, but Lydia was different. If he burned a bridge with some girl at Dante's, there'd be others...if he burned a bridge with Lydia, then that was it. He'd existed long enough to know there wasn't another being like her. Even that brief period of time when he'd been on his 'vision quest', he'd felt a deep ache in his essence to return to her. He wouldn't put it past that fumigated airbag to have enacted something as a consequence to him marrying the mortal. He just needed to clear his head. Standing on the roof, he watched as the sun started to set. His outfit shifted to his usual stripes, hair taking on a violet hue as something akin to remorse crept over him. 

He heard footsteps approaching, stomping up the stairs, and then across the landing before entering the bedroom. Lydia appeared in her window, towering in rage as she crawled out onto the roof.

"What the hell were you thinking!?" she shouted, setting her hands on her hips as she righted herself. He rolled his shoulders, shelving the thoughts he'd been turning over to look at the girl before him. 

"What?" he asked gruffly. It was easier to be the asshole then own up to what he was feeling. "I slipped, what do you expect?" 

"I expected you not to be an asshole! There was no need! You just had to keep it together for an hour! Why was that so hard!" 

"I didn't like that guy"

"Of course, you didn't! Admit it, Beetlejuice! You overreacted! What did you get jealous because he touched me?" Lydia's hands were balled into fists as she stomped over to him. Beetlejuice's head snapped to hers, his hair shifting to turn red. 

"You know what, fine, yeah I got mad, I don't like seeing another man's hands on my WIFE!"

"I'M NOT YOUR WIFE!"

"YES THE FUCK YOU ARE!"

"I AM NOT! IT WAS A GREENCARD THING"

"IT WASN'T A GREENCARD THING, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

"IF YOU'RE MY HUSBAND THEN FUCKING ACT LIKE IT!"

"LISTEN HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT-what?" Beetlejuice broke off, staring at her dumbfounded. Lydia was in his face snarling as she poked him in the chest. It was like being confronted by an angry puppy. 

"I SAID ACT LIKE IT, FUCKING DO SOMETHING" she shoved him angrily. Something in him snapped, her bait was like an admission. Launching himself forward, he grabbed her face and crashed his lips against hers. He expected her to strike him and pull away. Instead, little Lydia Deetz wrapped her arms around his neck, grabbing a handful of his quickly shifting hair. She dug her fingers into his scalp and kept her mouth hot on his. 

A contented growl came from his throat as he pressed her against the house, a niche spot between the windows of her bedroom. He slipped his hands beneath her legs to support her as she wrapped them around his waist. For the first time, there were no words between them, both acting on instincts born of suppressed reactions they'd been holding back for months. Both had been too obtuse and hesitant to express how they felt that the smallest catalyst brought about the cataclysmic shift of friends to lovers. 

Lydia's fingers nimbly worked at the buttons of his shirt as though she was adjusting the dials on her camera. She shoved his jacket off, so it crumpled in a heap behind him. Not be outdone, he slipped his cold hands beneath her shirt, rolling it off over her head and tossing it down on the ground below. It would be a fun treat for the breathers to find when they walked the semiconscious Yogi out to his car to leave. 

He dragged a claw through the sports bra she wore, the material splitting down the middle and falling away to reveal her small pale breasts. He looped one hand behind her back to hold her steady as another hand pawed the soft flesh. His fingers felt the shiver as it ran down her spine, goose pimples rising on her skin in response to his hand's feel. She moaned softly, her lips parting. Beetlejuice took advantage and hungrily slipped his tongue inside of her mouth, exploring every surface he'd desired to claim since the night he first saw her. 

The divesting of their clothing was manic, frenzied, and yet they sought to preserve the experience. If they moved to fast, it might prove to be a dream each woke from reluctantly. Lydia brought her hands to his belt buckle and pulled at it. In her haste, she ended up tightening it around his waist, earning a protesting groan from him. 

"I appreciate the enthusiasm Babes, but that's not what I want you to squeeze" he snapped his fingers, and the offending belt was gone, the striped baggy pants shed from his body to join the other clothing sprawled on the roof. There was one more piece of clothing left. The tight purple leggings he'd admired her rear in earlier was the last bit keeping him from her. He stepped back using his juice to keep her suspended against the wall as he grabbed hold of the fabric by her ankle and gave them a teasing tug. He enjoyed her squirming as she craved to feel his touch again. Another small tug then with all the skill of a magician pulling a table cloth, he ripped them off of her throwing them to land somewhere on the roof. He wasn't prepared for the thin strip of material waiting for him beneath her clothes. He hadn't seen a panty line earlier because coverage came in the form of a piece of fabric. It begged the question of why bother with having underwear in the first place.

Beetlejuice looped a finger between her hip and the string bringing his face up to look at her. Lydia smirked at him, raising an eyebrow in the form of a challenge. 

"What?" she asked, squirming against the invisible force holding her against the roof as his hands were otherwise occupied. "Did you expect to find granny panties?"

"No, I should have known my wife was a kinky bitch" 

"Having a thong hardly makes me a kinky-OH!" she broke off as he suddenly slipped his cold fingers beneath the fabric and into her wet heat. He hissed, feeling her clamp down around his finger, the little mortal was tighter than anyone he'd been within memory. It was all he could do not to pull his fingers out and bury himself to the hilt inside of her. As tempting as the thought was, her tightness indicated that he'd have to move with some caution. He didn't want to break her. This was a toy he wanted to play with for a long time, so caution was necessary. 

His lips found hers again, sliding his thumb between her folds and beginning to circle her clit. He felt her shiver beneath his touch. His other fingers were moving inside of her, pressing farther and farther inside of her. Lydia moaned with each touch, her hands finding their way over his skin, finally entangling in his hair. Her lips parted as her whole body moved with each thrust, spurring him on with each breathless exclamation. 

"Beee-"

"Thats it, Babes..." he growled, his voice hot in her ear as he attacked the delicate skin of her neck. He left dark hickies in his wake, biting her collar enough to draw blood. Lydia's fingers dug into his skin. She yanked him close to her, so the overwhelming sound of her harsh breaths filled his ears. Sighs that reminded him of the fact she was very much alive, and entirely his. 

"Beeej-" she moaned, his hand was practically dripping as he pushed his finger further inside of her. He carefully swiped his thumb over her clit, teasing the delicate skin and watching her twitch. He chuckled, hearing her breath hitch in her throat. "I-I want you" He was surprised to hear her whine, what the hell did she think he was doing?

"Okay Babes" He slipped another finger inside of her, watching her eyes snap open and her head to fly back against the roof. She bit her lip. He watched as her lower lip dragged from her teeth as she opened her mouth in a wordless exclamation. 

"No" she whined. He hadn't expected that sound from her. "I want all of you, now" 

Beetlejuice raised his brows at her, his lips turning up in a smile. "got to be patient baby" he let a jolt of juice slip through his thumb that pressed against her clit. The sound it elicited from her was a cross between a gasp and a scream. "Gotta make sure I don't break you...when I break you" 

His willpower was beyond tested. The sounds coming from Lydia's lips partnered with how tight she was around his fingers drove him mad. His cock twitched in anticipation, aching to dive into her. There were times in the Netherworld before his banishment when his powers were less in is his control. His body parts took on anthropomorphic personalities, demanding attention, or speaking for him. He felt like it was a matter of time before he relapsed, expecting his cock to start screaming at him, demanding Lydia.

He'd waited for so long. It felt like ages since he'd first seen her on the roof. It'd only been two months, but time was irrelevant when you lived for eternity. They'd been able to see each other. They recognized the potential within each other. Not only that, they understood each other. Beetlejuice always wondered what was happening beneath her clothes or inside of her head. He got himself off numerous times, thinking of Lydia beneath him. 

The complicating factor was that he vowed never to push the relationship again. He'd been elated that she'd chosen to forgive him when he came back. Lydia surprised him that day. She'd hugged him before he'd left and then a welcoming sardonic smile when he'd entered the living room with Ms. Argentina. He knew right then he had to change his game plan. Typically Beetlejuice had no qualms about manipulating and extorting others to get what he wanted. He'd done that in getting her to marry him. He hadn't anticipated the crushing feeling of fear and rage that swelled within him when she abandoned him. He'd never cared about anyone the same way he did this breather he was knuckle deep in. 

"Lydia" he hissed, he could smell she was close, she was right on the edge of ecstasy she'd never known, all at his doing. He slipped his striped tongue out between his lips and brushed it against the marks he'd left on her neck. Just then, she broke. She shrieked his name nails, dragging across his skin as she bucked against him. 

Floors below the adults looked up in shock and horror. The other sounds hadn't been enough to reach their ears, but Lydia's keening wail caught all of their attentions. 

"What the hell was that?" Charles looked up at the ceiling. His nerves pushed beyond the breaking point. First, with the Yogi, then the attack now whatever game Lydia was playing. Four adults exchanged apprehensive looks over the body of the Yogi, arguing about what to do. 

"Woah...I must have Savasana-ed to hard…did you enjoy the class" Benjamin sat up, rubbing his head where he'd now grown a bump. He didn't have any memory of what happened before the final pose and could have sworn he'd had more to teach. It wasn't the first time his mind failed him; the last thing he wanted to do was give the yuppies a reason to reduce some of his payment. He slipped into his relaxed demeanor folding his hands over his heart. "I have been brought to such a place of peace in your home. The energy is truly spiritual...I must be going now to attend to my next class." 

He got to his feet, unknowingly passing through a cold spot that was Adam to place hands on Charles and Delia's shoulders. 

"Namaste my friends, it has been truly a blessing to attend to your home. Please send my payment through venmo," he said the last bit to Charles, picking up he was responsible for the household's wallet. 

"Charles, maybe you should walk him to his car...make sure that he's okay to drive?" Barbara suggested, moving to stand next to the businessman. He nodded in response, unable to answer her with words as Benji was still among them. 

"We can work in her and try to get things back on track for your birthday party Delia" 

"And I will go upstairs and check on Lydia" Delia offered. Benji flashed a look of confusion at her sudden proclamation. With a plan set, they split, Adam and Barbara tidying up the living room and taking the cake out of the fridge (coconut oil frosting was much better at room temperature). Delia made her way upstairs to Lydia's room, curious about why she didn't hear more sounds the closer she'd gotten. Charles was engaging in meaningless conversation with the Yogi as he sent him out to his car, ensuring he could complete essential functions. 

He paused, finding a shirt on his lawn, noting it's similarity to the one Lydia wore earlier that day. He turned his head to look up towards her bedroom. He didn't spot anything out of the ordinary, just her curtains flitting through the window in the breeze. He mused she must have thrown them down in a fit about being forced to attend the party. 

"Lydia?" Delia called as she opened the door to her step-daughter's bedroom. She'd only peered inside for a moment before it she was met with a glowing amber eye. 

"Not lookin' for an orgy t' day Red" with that the door slammed in her face, the sound of heavy locks sealing on the other side that had to have been placed there by magic. Beetlejuice returned to Lydia sprawled out on her bed, bare and waiting for him as she came down from her orgasm. 

Her lips barely parted, her chest rising and falling with each breath as she gathered herself. Her eyes were bright as she opened them, propping herself up on her elbows as he returned to her. He craned over her, stalking forward like a predator. 

"Ready, Lyds?" He purred, placing his hands on either side of her head and bringing his face close to hers. He didn't expect her next move, though there was little he could ever predict from Lydia. She grabbed his head and dug her hands into his hair. Her nails dug into his scalp as she yanked his lips against hers. 

"I've been ready" she growled, wrapping her legs around him. That was all he needed; he slid his hands down to her side, pressing her hips into the mattress and lining his tip with her entrance. The heat coming off of her nearly drove him mad. Lydia's heart raced in her chest, waiting in anticipation. 

"Look at me" his voice filled her ears, she stared up at him, his glowing amber eyes devouring her deep brown hues. He watched as her eyes grew wide as he buried himself within her. He wasn't prepared for the soft whimper that came from her lips. "You okay, Babes?" he asked, suddenly uncomfortable. Remorse and Lust were unfamiliar combinations to course through his system in such an intimate setting. He wanted her, but he didn't want to hurt her. 

"Y-yeah" she breathed, "move...please...move" she begged. That was all he needed. He moved, pulling back and thrusting into her again and again, draining at the fragments of sanity he had left. Everything about Lydia was intoxicating. Each exclamation, each breath, every desperate sound that came over his lips. 

Lydia felt lost in the throws of her passions. She couldn't tell where she ended, and he began. It was every dark fantasy she allowed herself to indulge in. Ever touch he'd ever left, every threat, every prank lead to this. He could kill her, and she'd be content with this. She was his cursed bride now and forever. Finally, they'd been able to admit how they felt about each other in the oddest of circumstances. 

Still, despite the ardor present between the two, they exchanged quips and remarks dripping with sarcasm, filthy comments meant to spur the other on. They fell into a natural rhythm. Beetlejuice's excess of experience made up for Lydia's complete lack. They built together. It was the inhale before a scream, the tension that built up in the chest before finally the sound was released. 

Beetlejuice roared, releasing into her as he pumped through her orgasm. His thrusts shook her bed, threatening to break the expensive frame Charles purchased for his little girl. She squeezed around him, spewing unholy exclamations of love to him. He helped her through her orgasm, falling to the side of her once they were both spent. He could hardly see straight. All the fucks he'd had over his existence couldn't compare to Lydia. He mused he should scarcely be shocked at this. No one compared to his wife. He couldn't put into words what set her apart from every other entity in existence, but he'd be content to spend the next millennia trying to find out. 

"What do you say, Babes, round two, or should we go get some cake?"


	2. Cinco de Mayo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next up on the docket Charles' birthday! After the utter disaster of Delia's birthday events Beetlejuice attempts to some repairs with his in-laws in the form of the netherworld's finest tequila...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize this has taken so long to update. Finding the right headspace to write this in has been hard. Ironically I do best writing this at work? I'm trying not to question that logic too much but I hope you enjoy this Deetzland heavy chapter.

The next birthday brought Beetlejuice’s new favorite appliance out of the storage. He floated down to the kitchen one afternoon to find Barbara making a tremendous amount of noise in the kitchen. It was early May, the weather just starting to change and warm up pleasantly so all the windows in the house were open to accommodate a nice breeze. 

“What’s that Babs? Didn’t know you were into makin’ music” He hovered just above the ground watching Barbara add ice and liquid to the appliance.

“It's a blender Beetlejuice” she answered “I’m using it to make margaritas for Charles’ birthday” 

“Oh, its ol’ Chucky’s Birthday!” The demon excitable clapped his hands “Ah what should I get my good ol’Dad for his birthday!”

Barbara paused in the process of cutting lime wedges to point a knife at the demon in front of her. “Don’t do a repeat of Delia’s birthday” she warned, not that the metal instrument could do anything to harm him, the sentiment was still the same. “I mean this in the kindest way possible...perhaps not being present for his birthday may be the best  _ present _ you could give?”

“I don’t know what you’re possibly talking about Chuck and I have a wonderful relationship” 

Beetlejuice tilted his head to the side, raising his brow at Barbara’s narrowed her eyes. 

“You and my father? Oh yes, he couldn’t have asked for a better demon in law” Lydia’s drawl announced her entrance to the kitchen. She sidled up to Beetlejuice trailing her hand along his arm before removing it. They hadn’t said anything about their relationship just yet. Delia was too traumatized in the aftermath of her birthday to process the comment made when she attempted to enter Lydia's room. 

If she did process it, she’d said nothing since Charles had yet to blow a gasket over Beetlejuice and Lydias continued time together. There were no restrictions put in place about them hanging out in her room, not that it would matter if they did, given Beetlejuice had about as much regard for rules as he did personal hygiene. For her part Lydia had worked to keep their relationship quiet, merely to spare the lecture and actually enjoy her time with her husband. 

Since their first chaotic trist the change in their relationship settled neatly. Really nothing changed in how they acted though there was a distinct ease in their interactions. The tension was lifted, quite literally spent every night they spent entangled in each other’s bodies. Beetlejuice prided himself in being a very sexual demon, still, he never accounted for how much he liked this element of monogamy. He’d never before had someone he could fuck, cuddle and plan future pranks with while coming down together. She was his best friend and paramour. Like a sexy swiss army knife. It brought him an immense amount of satisfaction to see what he could awaken in her. He wasn’t tired by any means but found the little gothic minx was keen on jumping his decaying bones any chance she could get. Something he liked to joke with her about when he called her a variety of names during their exchange of vile epithets during intercourse. 

So far no one in the house noticed, though he suspected that the Maitlands may have sensed something was up as they were anything but quiet but nothing had been said. Beetlejuice hadn’t changed any of his behavior really, the only thing that kept him from acting out was Lydia’s request. She didn’t want to deal with the adult interference. He weighed the options and considered as much fun as it was to raise the collective blood pressure of the house (in some cases only in a figurative sense) it was far more fun to have his cursed bride happy and all to himself. 

And here was a potential opportunity to have even more time with his Lydia all alone. Barbara wanted him gone for the day? Well, that could easily be arranged. With a smirk aimed at Lydia he reached into his jacket and pulled out a large bottle of amber-colored liquid. He placed it on the table not answering the look cast at him from either female as they tried to calculate just how he’d fit the bottle in his jacket. 

“Honestly If I'm not allowed to go how will I give Chuck my birthday gift?” 

“You got him a gift?” Lydia and Barbara remarked in unison. Lydia’s brow raised and Barbara regarded the bottle suspiciously as if it was about to explode.

“Of course I did, had to get something for my new Dad” the grin on his face was suspicious. He only ever referred to himself in a familial sense to get a rise out of the adults so naturally the term was going to put others on alert. He could practically taste the tension in the air “Its Booze, you drink it...or  _ throw it at a kids head when they’re pissing you off if you’re my mother _ BUT anyway it’s my gift” 

The women cringed in unison as he alluded to his upbringing. His random trauma spills always left an uncomfortable feeling in the air, mostly as he wasn’t a being you could easily comfort. Though Lydia had been making gains in ‘researching’ methods on how to improve his moods through practical experiments. Barbara cautiously picked up the bottle and looked it over.

“What are all these words? I’ve never heard of these liquors before...libidine, amare, studium...no praeceptum...what the hell is this?”

“It’s Netherworld Booze...works just like the other stuff only it’ll work on you and four-eyes” Beetlejuice waved a hand dismissively. So he wasn’t sharing all the facts, that was nothing new. “It’s like Tequila…” 

Lydia noted the crooked smile on her husband's face and cocked an eyebrow. He was up to something, the question lay in determining if there were any lethal implications to his ‘kind’ gesture. She was almost certain he wouldn’t do anything to actually harm the adults in the house, without just cause at least.

“And it’s safe for people to drink?” Barbara asked turning over the bottle “Living people”

“Yes Babs  _ living people”  _ Beetlejuice rolled his eyes spawning an extra arm from his back to slip beneath Lydia’s dress and pinch her rear. She jumped in surprise, a coy smile appearing on her lips as she otherwise kept her reactions minimal. “No one trusts me in this house...even when I try to do something nice” 

“Perhaps because you never do anything without there being a benefit for yourself?” Barbara accused, a dark look came over her features as she recalled his previous transgressions. “The only time you ever did something decent was when you stopped your mother from killing Lydia”

“That’s not the only decent thing I did, I did give you one of the best kisses you’ve had this side of the afterlife” he began before Lydia interrupted him by clearing her throat. Whether it was to discourage an argument or due to latent jealousy she didn’t give herself time to dwell.

“I was going to head into town to take some pictures and see about picking up a present for Dad...plus Adam wanted me to take a few shots of the new building they’ve put up since…”

“you died” Beetlejuice added helpfully earning a pint-sized elbow to the gut. The move didn’t hurt him in the slightest, merely earning a smirk from him as he looked at his wife. 

“ _ since things changed... _ Beetlejuice?” Lydia turned her head to meet her husband's expectant face, her voice sweet “Did you want to come with me?” 

She gave him a knowing smile, going on errands, and taking pictures really was just code at this point. What she was promising him was a day alone with her, no parents to interfere with any mischievous or amorous activities. She witnessed the comprehension in his gaze, the slight tilt of his face towards hers 

“Sounds like a plan Babes” he slung an arm around her shoulders, the extra appendage he’d grown before cupped her cheek before disappearing into his back. He appeared to be hatching his own ideas for what the day could bring evident by how he seemed to buzz with electricity. “Well, no time like the present, c’mon Lyds let’s go while yer still breathing...Babs, have fun with ol' Chuck” 

Leaving no room for further comment Beetlejuice took Lydia's hand in his own and pulled her from the room. With a pop they disappeared, though to where Barbara wasn’t entirely sure. She looked at the bottle of booze uncertainly, holding it up to the light. It seemed like too much of a gamble really. Beetlejuice certainly had improved his behavior since returning but it wasn’t enough for Barbara to forget what had happened. She wanted to believe he could change and seemed to be with Lydia’s influence but at the end of the day, he was a demon. A demon who showed a pattern of doing whatever he pleased regardless of the impact it could have on others. It was going to take a lot more time and things other than netherworld booze to change her mind. She wanted this day to be special for Charles and as such, she didn’t want to risk any potential poisoning. 

Her mind made up, She’d use regular tequila. Not too much. They could enjoy multiple drinks rather than become too sloshed to do anything other than clumsily attempt to guide guacamole laden chips to their mouths only to drop onto the floor. Tucking the bottle into the cabinet above the fridge Barbara comforted herself that short of a hangover, no one in the house would have ill effects from the drinks she served that night. 

Charles could be a sentimental drunk. In one of the evenings, she found him alone in his study he’d been halfway through a whiskey bottle talking aloud to a picture of Emily. Barbara had sat with him and simply listened. Offering soothing words of comfort as he lamented over his loss. She liked sitting and talking with Charles. They connected with each other on a level neither one completely understood. Of course, this brought up confusing feelings of guilt when both considered they’d prefer these late-night chats with each other rather than each's respected spouse. 

Barbara knew without a doubt that Adam was her soul mate, she loved him with all of her being and could not think of a better partner for her. The fact still remained that her conversations with Adam often weren’t able to linger in the murky feelings of discontent and lamentation. Adam was an eternal optimist, willing to do whatever to comfort those he loved. Same with Delia. The problem there lay that it was a comfort to sit with another and call out that sometimes things were just not ok. 

She shook her head, cursing herself for entertaining these thoughts and allowing her mind to wander even slightly close to infidelity. She’d never act on it, or do anything about it. So many things mattered more to her than that. She poured herself a small margarita to taste her creation and sipped it. There was no tequila in the mix but the flavors seemed right. She left the glass and moved to the dining room to retrieve the Patron saved for this specific occasion. 

. 

Just as she walked away from the creation Delia slipped in the kitchen. Her arms were laden with decorations she’d crafted with Adam and intended to string up all over the room in an explosion of color. She loved to celebrate and was elated to celebrate her husband’s birthday for the first time. The last birthday she celebrated with a husband had resulted in him bailing on her in favor of drinks with his boyfriend. She’d been understanding when it happened yet still hurt as she ate the entire cake by herself on the floor feeling utterly defeated. 

No- Charles wasn’t like that. She wasn’t in that place anymore. She was happy, she had a family, she belonged. She placed the decorations down on the table and looked to the mixture resting in the blender. Margaritas- _ excellent _ . There was a glass next to it with a bit of the mixture poured inside. ‘

Delia  _ loved _ margaritas. They reminded her of spring break trips when she was young when she had the perfect sculpted body and her whole future ahead of her. Of course, she was miserable back then. She had toxic friends and spent every conscious moment chasing after attention that only barely satiated her before leaving her desperate for more. The only thing that could quiet it most nights was a margarita. Though there was a problem. As she sipped from the glass she could barely taste the tequila. 

Figures, sweet Barbara wouldn’t be a heavy drinker. Delia doubted the ghostly couple she now shared a home with had ever gotten properly drunk before. Save for perhaps attending a keg-stand or some variant of whatever get together the teenagers of winter-river engaged in. For Delia and Charles however, drinking came naturally to city life. There was no time to slowly work your way through a bottle of chardonnay to attain a buzz. Drinks needed to be strong and equipped to deliver a fast buzz. Instant gratification. That was NYC life.

Frowning Delia went to open the cabinets to find the alcohol. There’d been some debate of whether to store the alcohol in the dining room for guests or out of sight to discourage Lydia from sneaking drinks when she was left unattended. Delia thought the whole thing was stupid, as her own life had taught her, telling a teen they couldn’t drink did nothing in the way of discouraging them from seeking libations. It just increased the likelihood that the next time you went to drink you’d be finding half of your alcohol replaced with water. Factored with the fact that Lydia had a demon with summoning powers at his disposal she didn’t see why efforts needed to be made to hide booze from her. Still, adjusting to this new family set up was learning to compromise. As evidence of this Delia found a bottle of amber liquid tucked away above the fridge. 

Yes, exactly the place a teenager would never look. 

She didn’t recognize the brand but one whiff of it was enough to identify it as tequila. She drew her head back, vivid memories of a spring week spent topless in Florida come back to her in sharp relief. 

Yep, definitely tequila. 

She looked over her shoulder to see if Barbara had returned to the kitchen. With no Barbara in sight, Delia removed the lid of the blender and poured the amber liquid inside. She didn’t bother measuring. Neither she nor Charles were lightweights. She doubted as if the Maitlands would be affected by the alcohol but still hoped perhaps if the flavor was strong it might bring back a sensation they would have experienced when they were younger. Satisfied with her action and hearing Barbara’s footsteps returning she slipped the bottle back into the cabinet above the fridge. 

“Delia!” she remarked as she returned holding the bottle of patron “that’s a lovely dress” Barbara took off the cover to the blender once more and retrieved a measuring cup. Before Delia could discourage her she began to add a careful amount to the margarita mixture. What was a bit more alcohol? They weren’t going anywhere right?

“Thank you, I thought it might be a fun festive flair for the celebration!” she remarked looking at her bright yellow garb. 

“It certainly does, I don’t know if I’d be able to pull anything off like that, You look absolutely incredible” 

“Oh nonsense, I’m sure you’d look good in anything!” Delia stepped over to the blond and gathered her hair back from her face into a high bun. It wasn’t quite as skyscraping as Delia’s but still a different look for Barbara regardless. “You could wear your hair like this and we could get to see how long your neck is...I have some things if you’d like to try them” 

Affectionately she placed her chin on Barbara’s shoulder. Delia loved physical touch, any chance that she could get it. Barbara gently tilted her head to the side, pressing against the other woman. It was nice, a nice moment. It reminded her of the way Adam often liked to come up behind her while she was washing dishes. A sweet tender gesture of affection. Only, this one was platonic...right?

“Well we better get things set up, Charles should be home soon...Adam!” she called out into the house. The open floorplan aided in allowing her voice to travel “Are you nearly done?” 

“Coming Barbara!” was his answering call. Together the three set to work in setting up the surprise for Charles. 

…

The plan went off without a hitch. Charles arrived home remarking on how nice it was to have a simple commute rather than the one he’d experienced in the city. He changed his clothes and greeted the other adults. He didn’t attempt to play surprised when they showed him the birthday decorations. He was aware of everything and loved to have control. Still, he voiced his appreciation and delight for the efforts made. 

Dinner was well underway, The plates bore signs of tacos having been devoured in the warm late afternoon sun. Blissfully it was a rare early may day in New England that hinted summer wasn’t too far away. Chances were just as high that it might snow the next day but for the moment it was a state of content. The margaritas were a hit, the four had at least 2 glasses each, all working away at their third. 

The conversation waxed and waned, following a natural rhythm as they spoke about things they’d done, designs they might like for the house, and recapped moments of their time together in the few short months they’d been sharing the house. 

“Imagine if I had believed Lydia when she burst in announcing you had scorpions for teeth...now what was it she said your eyes were made out of?” Charles laughed, his head tilted back at the sky as the margarita softened the world around him. 

“Made out of the DEVIL!” Adam announced moving to pounce on Delia playfully and tickling her sides. It was the most relaxed the four had ever been. Each of them felt it but didn’t question how it was they came about. Barbara mused Beetlejuice had been full of hot air when he’d boasted that she and her husband wouldn’t be able to feel the alcohol effects if she didn’t partake in the Netherworld booze. She blew a raspberry in protest to his previous assessment, following it up with a tipsy giggle. 

“Speaking of Lydia where is she?” Charles asked sitting up and looking around confused as if he expected his daughter to materialize before him. 

“She and Beetlejuice are out” Barbara replied, trying to maintain an air of casualty like this was not something that should cause alarm. An uncomfortable knot of tension arose. None of them wanted the striped demon present, though the idea of him gallivanting with Lydia was hardly a welcome one. It was Delia who spoke first. 

“They’re fiiiiiine” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand “Lydia has him under control, Its like my guru-no” she broke off in a hiccup “its like  _ I _ taught her...Lydia...you have to stand up for yourself, otherwise, people whether they are dead or alive are going to walk all over you!” she slapped her hand on the table nearly upsetting the spoon in the bowl of sour cream. 

In a flurry of motion, she got up from her seat and made her way back inside. The remaining three at the table looked confused as she returned a few minutes later with a tray of filled shot glasses, limes, and salt. Proudly she set it on the table. 

“Shots!” she announced as if further clarification was needed. A slight air of hesitation came from Adam as he pulled back. He wasn’t a heavy drinker even when he was alive. He’d been surprised to have attained a buzz that day which naturally made him cautious about taking in more.

Then again...if he was dead he couldn’t feel pain, therefore lessening the pain of a potential hangover. Adam mentally cursed himself. Here he was, dead as a doornail and he was worrying about having a hangover. The anxieties that plagued him in life continued to haunt him as he did to this house. It was stupid. Why couldn’t he just take a chance!

“Shots!” he echoed Delia’s battle cry earning a startled look from Barbara. She was seated across the table. Delia appeared elated when he responded with such enthusiasm. 

“Do you know how to do one?” asked Charles with a bemused expression. His eyes were warm as he watched the uncertain ghost before him. 

“A shot? Uh yeah...of course...you just drink it-” Adam couldn’t help but feel flustered. He felt like a teenager sipping his first cheap beer again. The color on his bloodless cheeks rose again as Delia and Charles exchanged amused looks. 

“No, a tequila shot has steps, first you do the salt” Charles wet his hand and sprinkled some of the flakes on it. “Then the tequila…” He reached to take a glass of the amber liquid causing Adam to marvel at how large his hands looked around the tiny glass. He brought his hand to his lips and licked the salt off, downing the tequila in rapid fashion after that. 

“And then you do the lime to chase” Delia announced as she handed Charles the small green wedge. He took it and bit into the citrus, goofily smiling at the three before him like a child eating an orange wedge. Barbara leaned forward in her seat lost in a fit of drunken giggles as a result. Delia stood next to her running her fingers through her long curly hair as she made encouraging gestures to Adam. 

“I don’t know if I should....” he began before Charles interrupted him with a slap of his hand on the table. “Nope! It's my birthday! I demand you take a shot Maitland!” it was a soft silly side of Charles rarely seen. It was the Charles who liked to put on calypso and dance around the living room with a feather duster to tease his daughter. 

“Okay Okay,” Adam conceded, going to lift the salt shaker in his hand. He wasn’t used to this narrowed in attention on him from Charles. He sprinkled the flakes on his hand, finding they did not stay there despite being in his corporeal form. “Ah...I uh can’t make moisture...for it to”

“Here” Charles slurred jabbing his hand forward where he’d made a line of salt. Adam jumped but took his hand regardless, the anxiety that arose seeming to tune out in the warm feeling brought about by the margaritas. That and having the ability to really take a closer look at Charles’ eyes. 

“Lick it” the man urged an unfamiliar look in his eyes that Adam couldn’t tear away from. He brought the man’s hand to his mouth and did just that, running his tongue along the tanned skin. 

He took the shot in rapid succession, eager to silence the confusing cacophony of thoughts in his mind born of the gesture, the booze, and the man before him. Adam was a married man. He was straight... _ wasn’t he? _ He’d never been allowed to debate it really as any deviations from the sexual norm were frowned upon. He loved Barbara though. He loved Barbara with every piece of his heart both for who she was physically but as an emotional partner. But Charles, this man before him seemed to bring something out of him that he’d been pushing aside since he was 12 years old. 

The liquor burned as it went down his throat, he needed a lime to chase. That was the next step wasn’t it? Citrus to counteract the burn of the alcohol. All very scientific. It made sense to Adam. He tasted the burst of lime before he could even look for the wedge. There was something else he tasted too. Something strong, musky and reminiscent of whiskey. Strong hands gripped his face as lips pressed against his. 

Charles had grabbed him, had brought the lime wedge to him in his lips, and kissed him openly right there. Adam didn’t fight it. Any fear arisen in his mind was quelled by the alcohol. Filling him with a rush of previously suppressed desire. He returned the kiss, bringing his own hand to grip the side of Charles’ face. He’d never kissed a man before. There was strength there, a sort of battle for dominance. Adam was content to lose, he’d heard Charles’ assertion that he was good at sex. It seemed he was very good at kissing too. After what seemed like an eternity they broke apart. He had no need to breathe but Adam still felt breathless.

Comprehension slowly came to both men as they looked at each other. A sort of primal heat had taken over pulling them close to each other. Shifting a balance that was previously thought not to be challenged. Subconsciously Adam licked his lips. The taste of Charles still on him mingled with the tequila and the lime. The alcohol still buzzed in his veins partially blinding him to his surroundings the sound of a spoon clattering broke him from his reverie bring a thought to his mind in sharp focus. 

Barbara. 

His wife was seated across the table. He’d just kissed someone else in front of his wife. What was he thinking!? He turned his head, eyes full of apologetic remorse expecting to meet Barbara’s hurt gaze. Instead of brown eyes brimming with tears he was met with an entirely different visual. Barbara wasn’t looking at him. Her face was sealed with Delia’s as the red-headed woman straddled her lap. Adam’s eyes grew large as he took in the sight. It was strange. He knew he should feel wronged, cheated on...but something called him to join them. It was a strange pull he didn’t understand. 

“Woah” he heard Charles react beside him. His strong muscled hand going to rest on Adam’s. With the sound like a plunger unsticking itself Delia and Barbara pulled apart. Their expressions mirrored their husbands. Both in a slight state of shock of what had changed between them. The four adults sat in confusion wondering what had come over them. Delia was the first to react. She stood up from Barbara’s lap and adjusted her hair, moving across the table.

At first glance it seemed like she was moving to Charles, her hand moved to take hold of Barbara’s however. The blonde moved after her entranced, following her as she walked around Charles and stood between him and Adam. She released Barbara’s had, a quiet smile on her face as she turned to Adam. 

“Love is Love” she cooed as she took hold of Adam’s face and kissed him. Pulling back she looked at his dumbstruck face before turning to Barbara and Charles. Barbara was in Charles’ lap. Adam couldn’t make sense of any of it. A tequila-fueled haze blanketed them, dulling their senses and in their wake leaving behind a magnetizing pull to be together. 

Poetic that they’d chosen to have chips and dip at this birthday dinner. As effortlessly as one could switch between guacamole, queso, and salsa the culinary bliss experienced when they three were combined together was far superior. The same could be said for the quadple. There was no jealousy, no judgment. Adam cupped Barbara’s cheek as Delia’s hand slid across his back. Charles pressed a kiss to his neck as Adam removed his shirt. All of it happened so quickly, no one had time to think of the consequences. 

Consequences remained unthought until early the next morning. Charles awoke with a splitting headache that was exacerbated by the cackle of laughter heard at the foot of his bed. He made to sit up to see the intruder but was stopped as he noticed the arm draped across his bare chest. It clung to him earning a protesting “Delia…” from his lips until he noted the blonde curls rather than a mussed red bun.. It wasn’t Delia pressed against him, it was Barbara. He looked to his left and saw Adam similarly nuzzled against him, and Delia sprawled with her head on the Maitland’s chest. 

“Oh my god…” the businessman wheezed in shock. 

“I take it back...apparently you breathers DO know how to have a good time!” Beetlejuice cackled again at the end of the bed. He was grinning from ear to ear as he took in the scene before him. 

Charles let out an angry shout moving to leap from the bed to chase the demon off. Of course, he was impeded by the bodies around him and his own attempts to retain modesty by holding a pillow over himself. The commotion upset the others around him and brought them into consciousness as well. A collection of groans and gasps came from the bed Charles had just crawled out of. The most well adjusted of all of these was perhaps Delia who merely hissed at the bright sunlight flooding the room and placed her head back down on Adam’s chest. After her eyes were given a moment to adjust she lifted her head up again and looked at them all. 

“Now  _ that _ was a spiritually nourishing rogering” 

“I can’t believe we...I...Barbara, I’m so sorry” Adam sputtered, he kept his hands up from touching Delia despite her resting on his chest. 

“No...no Adam I did to...I...Charles...Delia...I don’t-” Barbara was red in the face, she appeared on the verge of tears. 

“Glad to see my present was such a hit” Beetlejuice was beside himself. He floated just a few inches of the floor grinning from ear to ear like a perverted Cheshire cat. “Didn’t expect you to pour  _ that _ much but hey Babs...you can party” 

“What are...what is he talking about?” Charles looked even more puzzled if it was possible “what present” he looked to Barbara. He couldn’t help but notice how stunning she was with her mussed hair in his bed. 

“Babs...trying to take credit?” Beetlejuice chided, shaking his head slightly. “I got you the finest booze the netherworld could offer. A little gift for my new Dad” 

“No! I didn’t use it!” Barbara shouted pressing the sheet to her chest as she looked around for where her clothes might have ended up. She hadn’t quite figured out that all she needed to do was will them into existence given she didn’t have a body to actually dress. “I hid that! I used regular tequila!” 

“Oh shit” came Delia’s voice as she put the pieces together. Four pairs of eyes rested on her. “I added the tequila I found in the cabinet above the fridge…”

“Welp...Happy Birthday, Chuck! I’m off to bone the misses!” He sauntered across the room and stopped when he reached the doorway, looking back with a smug look “Gotta see if she’ll let me summon a clone or two...what can I say...I’m inspired” with that he disappeared. Despite the four cries of his name from the adults, Beetlejuice reappeared in Lydia’s room wheezing with laughter. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think! This is my first dip into writing for a polyamorous group so notes to improve are appreciated!
> 
> The latin 'liquors' translate to :   
> libidine = lust  
> amare = love  
> studium = ardor   
> no praeceptum = no envy
> 
> I don't pretend to know Latin well so these are based off google translate.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think, I'm pretty set with my headcanons around the family's star signs so I won't be taking criticism for that. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing! Later Breathers!


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